


dump of short fics

by Daanny



Category: Persona 5
Genre: M/M, dump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:08:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24646930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daanny/pseuds/Daanny
Summary: some fics i deleted off the site previously
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Kudos: 12





	1. sin

**Author's Note:**

> hey sorry i cant seem to decide if i want these to be available or not but i wanted my friend to be sad so i uploaded them for them to read 
> 
> nonetheless, i hope these provide at least some sort of enjoyment

It was over the buzz of the dinner-time rush that he voiced his only wish.

“Akechi?” Ren asked, cutting a piece off his Nostalgic Steak and stabbing it with a fork. His fork scraped against the metal plate the steak was served on, and he thought he might flinch at the sound, but he couldn’t hear anything over the thumping of his heart that only sped up and loudened with each passing moment.

Akechi stopped his own fork midair, put it back down and smiled, “What is it?”

Akechi Goro was the one that held the most threat over the Phantom Thieves, over the team that he needed to protect as a leader. Yet when he smiled, when the smile reached his eyes and they softened to hold what almost felt like warmth, Ren couldn’t bring himself to keep his guard up around Akechi.

“Will you go out with me?”

The smile vanished from his face.

Perhaps it was something Ren said. Perhaps Akechi was not willing to enter a homosexual relationship and Ren should just leave and go fuck himself. Perhaps it was simply out of surprise. Perhaps it was Ren himself. He could list pages and pages of reasons, each making perfectly logical sense, but his heart still sank.

“I apologize, Ren, but I must reject your offer,” Akechi’s eyes clouded over and Ren couldn’t read his expression. Was it remorse? Was it yearning? Why did he have that expression? “I hope you understand.”

Ren didn’t understand and couldn’t understand.

Why would Akechi spend so much effort to join the Phantom Thieves, yet spend even more effort distancing himself from them? He couldn’t figure Akechi Goro out.

“Of course, Akechi. It’s your choice, after all. Thank you for giving me your answer, I appreciate it.”

As he dug back into his steak, he couldn’t help but to catch on a thought that nearly escaped him. If he did have Akechi Goro figured out, so to speak, would he still be interested in him? Or were his feelings simply an illusion crafted out of his needs to covet?

* * *

Akechi’s heart nearly stopped at those words. 

Ren’s eyes wavered, yet they were filled with hope and promises of their time to come. _Together_ , they’d be together to take on whatever the world threw at them.

The word “yes” threatened to spill from his mouth. He wanted to believe in Ren. He wanted to think that they could take on the world together. He wanted to think that they could take on Shido together.

But they couldn’t.

Nor will they ever be able to.

However, alone, Akechi had a chance. He could exchange his humanity for the demise of Shido, but he couldn’t ask that of Ren. He was sure that Ren would give up near anything (save his teammates) for him if he asked, but Ren didn’t deserve that.

Ren deserved to be in the light, surrounded by his family and friends who could support him. Ren didn’t deserve the likes of himself.

So he tried to not let his muscles tense while rejecting Ren and prayed to dear God that everything would work out. But even if he begged, there were no Gods that would answer his calls.

* * *

They rarely spoke after that encounter.

The other Phantom Thieves noticed, yet Ann was the only one brave enough to bring it up in front of him. When Ren recounted the events of his rejection, she dropped the conversation quickly with an expression of sympathy.

How long would his friends stay together? Would they even stay, after the disbanding of the Phantom Thieves? Or would he be dropped, as fast as Ann had dropped the conversation? As quickly as his parents had sent him away?

He didn’t want to know the answer to that.

* * *

To Akechi’s relief, no one mentioned Ren’s confession. It allowed him to carry on the way he always did, without thinking too much of what was going to come.

* * *

The chair was uncomfortable, but it was certainly not designed for comfort. The air stank of questionable torture methods and teenage angst.

Oh, wait, the only thing that reeked of teenage angst here was Akechi.

Ren lifted his head up to meet the deranged eyes of the one he loved. Gone were the days where they wondered if they were going to get kicked out of the diner if they ordered one more refill. What wouldn't Ren give to return to that place? In this cell he's been locked in the last... he didn't know how long, he couldn't think of anything worth more than the time they spent together.

"Have you figured it out?" Akechi snarled, and no, that wasn't Akechi talking to him. But it was Akechi talking to him, yet it wasn't _his_ Akechi talking to him. He didn't want this Akechi, and perhaps he didn't want the real Akechi, he wanted _his_ Akechi.

He opened his mouth and promptly shut it again. He wanted to spill the plan, to open up about all the doubt the Phantom Thieves harboured for him but he couldn't. He couldn't let his feelings nor his lust get in the way of the operation. 

"Game over."

Ren jumped out of his chair and over the table, knocking the gun out of Akechi's hand and kicking him to the ground. A firm hit guaranteed the air was knocked out of Akechi and that he wouldn't be moving for the next while. Straddling Akechi's body, they shared glares that slowly melted into resignation. 

"Makoto was against this," Ren began and Akechi looked pointedly away. "She said coming into the Metaverse with you would be dangerous. Actually, they all said it would be dangerous. But I didn't want to leave you in Shido's hands any longer. It's not that I love you or I pity you, I don't think. It's more like..."

* * *

Akechi could barely hear Ren's words over the waves of pain that assaulted him until Ren said "love", then it was like a button in him was pushed and all the noise stopped. All that remained were Ren and an absolute silence.

"It's more like... I dislike the idea that you belong to someone else?" Ren tilted his head in contemplation. "Well, I guess what I want to say is, stay with me? Please?"

Ren wanted to own him. Akechi hated that idea, from its essence to the way it sounded in his head. Yet it was an enticing idea, the kind of enticing that tempted at a person even as they curled their lips at the dire consequences that would follow.

Ren's face lifted into a smile and the whole room lit up, "Thank you."

 _You're not welcome_.

* * *

No amount of surprise floods Akechi when he sees Shido's perception of himself: Obedient, yet easily disposable and probably easily replaced. Someone really should start investing in an Akechi recycling centre, shouldn't they?

He's uninjured, yet a glance at Ren's teammates tells him that they're in no condition to fight any longer. They're all quite useless. The targets they fought today were by no means difficult to do with, yet each and one of them took on so much damage. If he had been like that in Mementos, he would have long perished.

He _should have_ died.

So it's a no-brainer, really, when he pushes Ren away and summons Robin Hood to shoot an arrow at the alarm that sends a shutter flying up from the ground. The sheer terror that washes over Ren's face is nearly comedic and he has to physically restrain himself from bursting into laughter.

"Will you go out with me?" Akechi quotes with a sneer. Shido's perception grins almost sadistically, but he can wait. Akechi doesn't know if Ren can even hear his words through the shutter, but perhaps that is for the better. "Don't fuck around with me. You never loved me. Shit, you never even _liked_ me. What you were over in your head with was the belief that you deserved something this world was never going to provide you with. You projected that onto me because you thought I wasn't going to reject those ideals. Well guess what? I fucking did. So fuck off and look for your next target to continuing projecting your bull onto. _Bye_ , fucker."

Akechi draws his gun alongside the perception, they raise their arms.

_He wants to go down believing that even at one point, Ren loved him, even liked him would do, but he wouldn't let himself die surrounded by lies._  
  


And fire.

* * *

"Who does he think he is?" Ryuji rages, placing a comforting hand over Ren's shoulder. Yet his hand offers no comfort, even less than that chair he was confined to when he was in jail. "Don't worry about it, Ren. We're all here for you."

" _Ryuji_!" Ann predictably follows up with a reprimand. "Akechi saved us! Even--"

"He's right," Ren says quietly, and a hush falls upon everyone around him. "Akechi Goro has been right from the start. I..."

He just wanted someone to stay beside him, someone that would never leave him. It could have been anyone: Ann, Ryuji, Yusuke, some prostitute off the streets, doesn't matter. 

But as he takes one last look at the shutters that separated Akechi and himself, he can't help but to think that more than anyone else, he still wanted it to be Akechi by his side. 


	2. refrain

It was raining.

Ren ran. His shoes hit the concrete and sent wet splashes up in the air. His clothing were soaked through and clung to his skin like chewed gum. Rain streamed into his eyes and his vision was but a blur of colours that mixed together to form something grotesque. His face was covered in a sheen of water that numbed his skin, but it was still hard to miss the burning hot tears that carved down the either sides of his cheek.

It was as if there he was running away from the Reaper, away from the rock traps in Futaba’s palace, away from Akechi Goro’s body, lifeless on the floor.

The tip of his shoe caught on a rock and his body flew forward. He pushed himself up from the ground. Spitting out pieces of gravel mixed with blood, he continued forward. Perhaps when he reached his goal, Akechi would be there to congratulate him with a forced voice and smile. Ren didn’t care if Akechi would… _could_ treat him as a true friend of his, Ren only wanted him to be alive.

But none of that mattered. Ren couldn’t save him.

Akechi Goro was dead.


	3. to akechi goro

Tokyo never seems to rest.

Standing beside the train station and watching everyone pass by, headed towards their own differing destinations, I wonder if I’ll be able to see you today. I want to see you, I think.

Your words when we first met are etched deep in my brain; your voice on endless repeat. I wanted to find someone who thought the same as me, and when I finally did, I cannot bring myself to trust you.

The time passes without waiting for anyone. I let out a sigh and head for the train to Leblanc. I couldn’t see you today, either.

Even if we were able to meet, I wouldn’t be able to get close to you. It would be a mistake on both of our side, yet just knowing this doesn’t stop the tugging of my heart. I want to sit down across from you and talk, the way I would talk to any other one of my friends. I want to get to know you.

Maybe I’ll write a letter. Grandmother always told me to put my words to someone down on paper if I can’t tell the other person. I’ll burn the letter when I’m finished so that no one will ever known its contents but myself.

A letter to Akechi Goro.

My desk is lined with blank paper and my pencil case. Morgana is out on a walk and said that he would take a while. I sit down and grab a pen.

_To Akechi Goro,_

The scratching of my pen across paper, gliding over the roughness of the table underneath is strangely comforting. Yet after those three quick words, I find myself at a loss of what to write.

I want to see you, I want to know you, I want to be by your side; all those things seem to be nothing but passing thoughts in my own mind. What do I actually think of him? What do I actually want from him? I don’t know.

But I do know that on some level, I yearn for his company.

If I keep thinking of what to write, I’ll never be able to write it. My pen begins moving, leaving words that barely make sense next to each other. When I finish my first page, half of it is filled with words I scratched out, but that doesn’t matter. No one else will know the contents of this letter. It is addressed to Akechi Goro, but it is written for myself.

I wonder if this is what love feels like.

But in this world, love is only played up to by society to be the one thing of utmost importance. Whether if I agreed with that…

I wouldn’t know.

Just living in this world fills me with ideas that aren’t my own. I’m no longer able to sort out the ideas that are mine from those that have been force-fed down my throat. I chuckle at the irony of my thoughts. It is my job to fight through the palaces of the wrong in the world, but that is solely based on my perception of right and wrong.

I’m waiting for the day we are given incorrect information and end up punishing those who were in the right.

Surely my team would be horrified. They are the ones chasing after their own ideals the way I could never. Or perhaps they simply have yet to realize the irony in their actions. Or maybe they have thought about it only to convince themselves they’re doing the right thing.

I wish they could also convince myself.

I wish Akechi Goro cold convince me.

I wish I could convince myself.

What am I trying to convince myself of? I don’t know.

Surely the adults in the world don’t bother themselves with the feelings in my heart. But I am already seventeen, overseas, it would only be a year until I am of age. Do the eighteen year olds there know what they want to do? Will I know what to do in a year? Will this doubt in my heart magically evaporate?

It was as if this world doesn’t want someone like me.

I wish this world would just end without me..

I put away my pen and find a lighter. Without realizing, I had filled 5 blank sheets of paper with words that I wanted to tell Akechi Goro, but they weren’t really for him. They were my words for only myself. After it catches on fire, it only takes seconds before they are all shrivelled up and fall to the ground in ashes.

I’m doing perfectly fine.

—————

I am happy that you are joining our team. I am disappointed that you are not truly part of our team. I wish you could open up to us, tell us the deepest parts of yourself. I wish that I could help. Yet who am I to ask that of you when I can only write down my pleas for help only to burn them?

After writing that first letter, I fell into the habit of addressing a letter to Akechi Goro only to write down my thoughts as they come into my mind. Sometimes I wrote of my uncertainty in myself, and other times I wrote of the tasty pastry I bought from Yon-Germain. Whatever I wrote of, it was a direct transcription of my true thoughts directed to Akechi Goro. Sometimes I wonder why Akechi Goro doesn’t open up to me when I’ve told him all there is to know about me before remembering that the true Akechi Goro knows next to nothing about me. I am only talking to my own rendition of Akechi Goro.

That saddens me a little, I think.

_To Akechi Goro,_

It’s almost winter and I’m starting to feel a little melancholic. Compared to the life I had living with my parents, it’s easy to say that I vastly enjoy my life right now over that of living with them, yet I still miss it, I think. My parents sent me away for school without too much concern and I understand that. It must have been a lot of trouble on their part. They didn’t want to live with a criminal. I’m not mad at them, I don’t think. It’s simply that this world doesn’t want somoene like me, my parents are not in the wrong.

I wish I could be away from people. They are always the root of my problems.

I wish I could be away from myself.

The pen in my hand feels uncomfortable, clunky, so I put it down and burn the short letter I wrote.

Tonight as well, I’m doing perfectly fine.

—————

I had a dream when I was younger. I don’t remember what I wanted to become, but I wanted to become _something_. Yet soon enough, that dream grew mould, attracted flies and rotted away. I packed it away in a plastic bag and left it with the burnable trash. Sooner or later, my body would rot away in the same way. Everyone dies in the end, what is the point of continuing to live?

_To Akechi Goro,_

_I wish you could answer my question, yet you cannot._

_You died._

What made you choose death so easily? Those out in the world have done things much worse than yours with little to no reason. You could have led a future in this rotten world with me.

Why did you not take me with you? I told you once and once again this world doesn’t want someone like me.

But of course, you never knew of any of that. They were letters addressed to you, yet written only for me. I wish I was by your side.

I no longer have anyone to address my letters to. I wonder if this feeling in my heart will only continue.

I wish we could have talked, but this wish, I think, I made too late.


	4. chess piece

“Keep it,” he said, voice full with confidence and face covered in a smile. “Return it to me when I win.”

Akechi smiled back that time, yet Ren could not bring himself to trust the radiance that seemed to fill the atmosphere with smile. It looked like the visual representation of a lie. Yet who was he to pick at such details?

Was he ever honest to Akechi?

The jingle of the bell accompanies the quiet click of the door as it locks behind Akechi. Alone in the cafe, Ren cleans off the counter and packs away the chess set, with one piece missing. If he thinks about it, it makes almost no sense that he should give away the king piece of the only set he owns. How would he even practise without it? He sighs before remembering he could probably download an app and practise on his phone instead.

Thank God, he’s saved.

Yet if he was to thank God, to which God would he even be sending his thanks? Surely, if there was a God that listened to him, it would have helped him when he was in his time of need, would it not?

He wonders if Akechi has a God like that, if Akechi has cursed that God for not being able to protect himself when he was younger, if he’s cursed that God for leaving his mother to die.

What’s on Akechi’s mind? Would he ever be able to figure him out, that Akechi Goro?

“What about him?” Morgana’s voice suddenly pipes up, hopping up from one of the stools onto the counter. Ren nearly drops the glass and only breaths a sigh of relieve when he places it down on the counter safely. “You’ve been drying that glass the last five minutes. Are you alright? Maybe you should sleep early tonight.”

“What about who?”

“Akechi Goro. While you were drying that glass, you kept on muttering his name.”

“I was?” Ren shooes Morgana off the counter and proceeds to wipe down the counter.

“Hey! Watch it!” Morgana yells in defiance and lands on the stool. “But yes. And since when did you call him Goro?”

“Huh?”

“Akechi’s our enemy, you know. Don’t get too close to him… or…”

The clock’s ticks are uncharacteristically loud in the silent LeBlanc, “…Yeah.”

——

Ren was captured. The plan was a success. _His_ plan was a success.

Once again, the loss belonged to Ren.

Akechi leans back in his sofa with the meaningless chatter of the TV going over his head, and can’t help but feel… a slight pressure over his chest. He pulls out the King piece from his chest pocket and closes his hand around it. Slowly, his fingers tighten in strength and he lets go only when he feels an unserrated edge pierce skin. The piece drops to the floor with a clink followed by splashes of blood.

He shuts his eyes. Killing Ren would be easy, easier than closing his hands around that chess piece.

Yet even without the weight of the piece beating a silent rhythm with each step he took, the pressure doesn’t leave.

——

Catching the object that flew towards him was easy.

Opening his hand to see a chess piece was easy.

The most agonizing part is realizing it was the same chess piece he gave Akechi.

“You won’t refuse me, right?” Akechi’s voice is brimming with pain. “We’re even with that, right?”

Ren opens his mouth, tears ready to fall from behind his mask—

But his voice never reaches.

A set of metal shutters shoot from the ground and blocks off Akechi from view. The words Ren wanted to say melt away into a scream, subsiding only with a loud bang from the other side. His legs give away and his knees hit the ground hard.

“No…”

“I can’t sense him anymore,” Futaba says with a trace of regret. “Joker…”

“This wasn’t supposed to…”

“Joker… Let’s go…” Morgana lays a paw on his back. “He asked us a favour. We should—”

“I didn’t win.”

“What?” Ryuji asks.

“This wasn’t my win.”

“Huh?” The Phantom Thieves gather around their leader with concerned expressions. “Are you alright?”

Ren grasps the piece tight and shakes his head, “Nothing, lets go.”

The sound of the shutter still rings in his mind.

———————

He went to the park the next day, leaving Morgana in Futaba’s care. He buried the chess piece beneath the largest tree in the park.

He puts his hands together and dips his head, “I’ll win next time, Goro.”

He leaves soon after, without ever noticing the hooded figure leaning on the other side of the tree. He tugs his hood forward and shakes his head.

“Next time, huh. I’ll be waiting… Ren.”


	5. hanahaki

The grey hallways are bland, offering solitude that echoes with each step Akechi takes. He tucks a piece of hair behind an ear keeps on walking. Step by step. One foot in front the other. The weight that hangs from his heart by half a thread can easily be ignored. He blinks sleep out of his eyes and stops. Thoughts he cannot catch rush through his mind.

Akechi shuts his eyes.

He opens them again.

“Hi there, Sae, I didn’t see you there.”

Akechi trusts himself to deal with the conversation as his mind drifts away, into a cafe, shrouded by the warming smell of coffee and the sweet aroma of curr—

Ren’s phone.

_“I’ll call you.”_

_“You don’t have to.”_

_“…”_

_“You’ll make new friends when you’re back at home.”_

_“…”_

_“You can call me though.”_

_“I will.”_

“If there is nothing else, I will go ahead, Sae.”

Old memories that need not be touched. It only happened the once anyways.

Shooting the guard is all but too easy. Blood bursts from his head the way Akechi anticipates. The rush of adrenaline he waits for no longer fills his blood, no longer courses through vessels with burning energy. He turns to Ren.

He is as he remembers except for the bruises that have blossomed across his skin. Unruly black hair forms a nest that settles peacefully atop his head. Gray eyes look back at him with defiance and anger. Anger? Akechi doesn’t know. He’s never been able to read Ren the way Ren reads him. It doesn’t matter anymore.

He points the gun at Ren, smiles.

The bullet exits the barrow, unfurling into small yellow flowers that are shaken from branches amid emerald green of leaves that surround him, sneak across his body and choke away the life he never wanted—

Akechi blinks, all there is in front of him is Ren, face down in a pool of his own blood, crimson and beautiful against the white of the table. Even in death, Ren is beautiful.

He can’t help but hope it went differently, but those are the rare routes, the routes where players hack into the game they live in and cause change, for better or worse, he’ll never know. He’s seen Ren summoning Loki and Robin Hood as he watched on with awe. He’s seen himself running through dungeons far before he was supposed to join the Phantom Thieves. He’s seen everything turn out for the best.

He’s watched the perfect ending, an ending where evil are put to justice and no murders were committed by his own hands.

But that’s just that. An ending before everything turns and repeats on itself.

He’s had enough. Akechi has had more than enough.

A cough forces itself past his throat, bringing more of those tiny yellow flowers among spit past his lips and onto a handkerchief. Ah, how revolting.

He grabs the gun, holds it against his temple and—

——————

Ren’s never understood Akechi.

He sees past the well disguised pain and straight through the lies that Akechi never fails to tell.

It’s his first time coming to see his own dead body splayed out on the interrogation table. Ignoring Futaba’s frowns Ren can see through the phone, he pushes open the door and sees blood.

It’s slightly discomforting to see his own dead body, but that doesn’t come close to seeing Akechi’s body on the floor.

There is blood, slick over Ren’s fingers and wet through his jeans. There is the lifeless corpse, heat still lingering as he holds him close. Then there are flowers.

Tiny, yellow flowers falling from Akechi’s slack jaw, exotic and poisonous. Ren recalls it from a second flower encyclopedia he’d managed to find, hidden away deep in a corner of the bookstore he frequents.

The flowers blossomed on trees that grew beautiful green fruits. Manchineel, beach apple, poison guava. Hippomane mancinella. Any name works, the meaning remains the same.

Falsehood.

The one flower that described Akechi perfectly.

He wants to eat the fruit from the tree.


	6. consulting with yaldabaoth

Metal shutters shooting up from the ground, solid and blocking the sight of Akechi from his eyes. The deafening sound of a gunshot. A scream that tears through the silence following the bang. Hot tears streaming down from his eyes. The ground, cold and hard against his knees. Sensation seeping away from each and every limb.

Lingering warmth through the thick metal— that’s just his wistful thinking.

“Ren, please,” he hears through warbled distortions. “You can’t stay here anymore. We need to get to Shido.”

“God, I think he’s unconscious,” he hears again. “We need to get him out.”

He tries to shake his head. No movement.

His throat aches. So that’s who screamed.

He feels everything clam up.

He wants to hurl.

“Arsene!” he yells. Past the fog that covers his eyes, Arsene floats, firm and strong. “Eigaon!”

The metal of the shutters shake under the impact of the spell, but Ren’s efforts are to no avail. He stands up.

“Yoshitsune. Hassou To—”

“Ren! Stop it!” Ann grabs him by the arm, he tries to shake it off, and falls to the ground. “You’re just hurting yourself by doing this!”

Hassou Tobi doesn’t activate anyways. Yoshitsune looks at him with a frown.

 _Heal up first, Trickster_ , he says in Ren’s mind before disappearing in front of his eyes.

“No…” his hands cover his face. He lets them fall again. “YALDABAOTH.”

Blue floods his vision. The door to his cell is unlocked, and he marches out. Justine and Caroline are nowhere to be found, and Yaldabaoth, still in the form of Igor, sit on the other side of the desk, tapping away with a finger.

“I see you have failed this time as well.”

“No matter, send me back,” Ren orders. It’s a familiar routine. He’s repeated this thousands of times, millions of times.

“Very well. Child of man, you are still unable to escape the chains placed upon you by none other than yourself,” he stands up, and walks around the desk, stopping in front of Ren. “What are you searching for? For Akechi Goro’s life to not be forfeited? You have accomplished that many times, if I remember—”

He’s no longer in the Velvet Room, he’s paddling away furiously on a Swan Boat, Akechi beside him, calling him an idiot, but laughing through it all. Akira’s hand grasps onto Akechi’s tightly.

He’s forced himself on Akechi’s bike, one arm around the waist and one pointing in front of them. Akechi threatening to kick him off and making him walk the rest of the way. He laughs through Akechi’s harsh words, because there is not a hint of ill will behind them.

There, they were content. There, they were far from the demands of the public, of the pretend God.

He doesn’t want the Akechi that lived, hooked up to wires in the hospital, dripping with malice and shooting a glare that he doesn’t know how to deal with. He doesn’t want the Akechi that lived, hiding himself behind lies and masks that he easily sees through but can’t call out for. He doesn’t want the Akechi that leaves him, for countries he knows Akira wouldn’t be able to find him in.

But that’s all in his mind, he stands in front of Yaldabaoth, awaiting an answer, “We’ve agreed to not talk about this.”

“We have,” Yaldabaoth agrees. “As long as I have control over the masses’ will.”

“You do.”

“See you next time, Trickster.”


	7. akechi's ties

“Akechi, wake up.”

His eyelids flicker from the light his eyes aren’t yet used to. But when he catches a glimpse of messy black hair, he forces them open.

“Good morning, Akechi,” Ren says calmly, a smile hanging by his lips. “Would you like some coffee?”

Confusion swings a metal bat, slamming away at the side his head, ridding his ability to think. But under the thick cloud of confusion is only contentment and a feeling of security. He nods.

“That sounds delightful, Ren.”

Ren freezes, and a hard glare mixes into the calm smile on his face, “I’m not Ren, Akechi.”

“Huh?” he tries to sit up only to find none of his limbs will move.

Wrapped around his wrists and ankles are black ties with three thin, vertical stripes; they snake both down his arms and legs and past the sides of the beds out of his sight. He’s worn enough of them to know that they’re the ones he wears, that they’re ones he’s worn. Each tie is knotted to the next to provide ample length. He tugs at the ties again experimentally. They’re loose enough that he feels no discomfort, but tight enough that he should also give up trying to move.

“I’m not Ren, Akechi,” Ren repeats, placing a hand over his cheek. His vision is filled with Ren’s face: smooth, clear, beautiful. Ren’s dark eyes blink and his heart can’t help but skip a beat. He feels Ren’s thumb rub comforting circles around his cheekbone. If he could move his arm, he would clasp his hand over Ren’s and tell him to never lift it away. But he can’t. So he settles with filling his sight with Ren.

With Ren’s eyes.

With Ren’s hair.

With Ren’s lips.

Only with Ren.

“You are,” he says simply. Ren takes his hand away with a soft sigh and turns away from his bed. “No, don’t leave.”

“Ren isn’t here, Akechi.”

“Ren is…” vague memories in the back of his mind pushes past the cloud of confusion. He feels his head clear slightly. “Akira? Is that you?”

“Correct. Guess it takes more than a detective to figure that out, huh?”

He’s heard that line before. He’s no longer lying in Akira’s bed, and Akira’s no longer standing over him with an expression he can’t read. Over the noises at a train station, they stand across from each other. He’s clutching his shoulder and Akira’s wobbling, a hand on the pole beside them for support. Under the pain that clouds Akira’s eyes, is a playful glint that lights up his face.

“You… know me,” he says slowly, tentatively testing out each word on his tongue. “I know you.”

“Sure do, Mr. Detective,” Akira says before disappearing down the stairs.

His mind is racing with thoughts that can’t, _won_ _’t_ slow down enough for him to decipher. Only one word pushes it way past the mess and sits glaringly in his mind.

Why?

The creak from the staircase kicks him out of his reverie. Akira’s back, a cup of coffee in each hand.

“Akira?”

“Hmm?”

“Why?”

Akira sets down the cups on his shelf beside the bed. He unties his hand closer to himself, and then reaches over him to untie the other hand. He rotates his wrists and find them in no pain. He feels Akira’s hand, safe, strong and reassuring on his back, helping him up before placing multiple pillows behind for support.

It’s welcome because his muscles shake from even sitting up. They feel weakened from lack of use and he briefly wonders how long he’s been here.

“Why am I here?” he asks. There is no malice behind the words, only a curiosity carrying no meaning. There’s probably no need for the question to be answered.

There _is_ no need for the question to be answered.

He doesn’t get an answer.

Akira hums, placing a cup of steaming coffee between his hands, helping him take a slow sip. The coffee is still hot and he feels it sear through his esophagus and into his stomach. It’s slightly unpleasant the first time but becomes easier with each sip he takes.

A laugh bubbles out from Akira, as if he’d read his mind, “That’s true for many things.”

“What is?”

“It’s difficult the first time you do it,” Akira shuts his eyes, his hands tighten around the white ceramic cup. “But each time makes it slightly easier. Until it becomes a simple yet familiar repetition you must live through.”

“Are you speaking about yourself?” he asks. The coffee seems to heat up between his hands. He’s not sure if he can keep holding onto the cup, but he does, ignoring the burning sensation on both palms.

Akira opens his eyes again, confiscating the cup between his hands. He sets both cups back on the shelf and sits down beside him, leaning back and over his lap. His eyes are reflected in Akira’s, finding lines telling his story but being unable to read them. Akira’s arms wrap around his chest and pulls him close.

“I’m talking about you, Akechi,” Akira whispers into his ears before burying his face in his shoulder. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You probably don’t,” he agrees.

“I’m scared.”

“They don’t go.”

“I’m tired of you having to take on everything.”

“I am too, but it’s alright.”

Akira’s arms tremble and tighten around him, “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“But we have to.”

“Can’t someone substitute for us?”

“Ren… did it.”

“Akechi. I’m not Ren.”

Akira lets go and pulls back from him, “I know you’re not.”

“I’m sorry I’m not.”

“I love you too, Akira."

Akira smiles. For the first time, the emotion in Akira’s eyes are clear and easy to read: sadness.

“I’ll do it. I’ll fix this world for us. Ren did it, I can…”

He leans back into the sea of cushion and sinks, “We both know there’s no point. We’ll have to do it again.”

“It matters to me,” Akira says, untying the rope of ties from the bed post. “Is it easier for you like this?”

Akira wraps the ties around both of his wrists. He nods, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know,” Akira pulls the covers over him.

“You don’t trust me,” it’s not a question.

“I don’t. Wait for me.”

He shuts his eyes. The cushions are soft and comfortable under him.

“I will, as many times as I need.”


End file.
